My Monster, My Love
by Dhampire
Summary: When Kraven creates a second alliance with the Lycans, will Marcus and the Coven be able to defend themselves against his revenge? When Michael brings a human into the Coven, how far will Selene go to defend and protect him? First Underworld fanfic..P
1. Default Chapter

   A heavy stream of rain fell steadily from the blackened skies on to the crowded streets below.  The city held no name by its underground inhabitants, but to the masses of innocents it was known as New York City.  To the Vampires and Lycans, it was merely the battleground for the blood feud that refused to die.

   For the vampire Selene, this was the first time she'd emerged since Viktor's death.  With their Dark Lord's murder, the Coven had been in disarray, falling quickly under Marcus's rule.  It had been difficult from Selene to return home.  The others had initially feared the woman capable of murdering their leader and father.  She was hated even more for bring Michael into the manor.  But, her determination to maintain a balance within the Coven was greater that any hatred against her.  

    On this, the seventh day since Viktor's death, Selene had fled the Coven to seek solace on the streets.  It had been too long since she'd fed properly, and the stress of the past week had combined with a bloodlust that buzzed like fire through her.  

   The rain rolled over her body, covered in the latex suit and trench coat.  The crowds around her took no notice to the Vampire's presence, and she cut through them quickly in order to keep up with her prey: a young ma, no more than 25 years old, with a lean frame and a mowhawk hair cut.

    As the man turned onto a less crowded street, Selene followed, keeping hidden in the shadows close behind him.  When he reached his apartment, she wasted no time in stepping up behind him and pressing her exposed switchblade into the small of his back. Her free hand wrapped around the back of his neck, her fingers placing pressure on the sensitive nerves.  With a hint of satisfaction, she felt the man's "tough guy" image leave him.

   "You want money?  I'll give you whatever you want, please, just don't hurt me!"

   "I want you to shut your filthy mouth, human," she said firmly, her fingers digging into the nerves a bit harder, causing him to moan in pain.  She lifted him from the ground with ease and carried him into the street to drop him into an open manhole.  His body splashed loudly in the ½ foot of dirty water, and he scrambled to get up and run.  He wasn't able to get far before Selene was upon him, knocking him to the ground with a swift pounce from above.

   "Don't even try to scream, pussy boy, or I'll have to tear out your voice box," she purred, "And I'm sure we don't want that, now, do we?" She grinned, almost seductively, and straddled the man, pressing her switchblade to his neck.  His groin felt warm and wet through the latex bodysuit she wore.  He had pissed himself with fear.

    The man's dark green eyes widened with terror as Selene parted her lips and lowered herself onto him, as though to kiss him.  Her fangs extended smoothly as her mouth wrapped around the smooth skin of his neck.  The blood came instantly, pulsing out in a coppery rush with each of his heightened heartbeats.  Her mouth was filled with the warm fluid, and she drank eagerly as her muscles tightened and her body stiffened from the erotic pleasure that came with feeding.

   When she emerged from the sewer, she was exhausted, and covered in blood.  She wondered if only for a moment who he was going home to.  A wide and kids, perhaps, or girlfriend.  He might have been happy.  But not any more.

    "Selene….Selene, are you there?"  Michael's tinny voice came over her comm. unit, interrupting her thoughts.

   "What do you need, Michael?"  She didn't bother to mask the tone of annoyance in her voice.

   "I came up and you were gone…where are you?"

   "I was feeding."

   "You might want to wrap it up and get back here," he said, and she could sense a wary tone to his words.  She stopped walking, staring ahead into the darkness of the alleyway in which she'd wandered.

   "What's the problem?" 

     Michael paused before speaking, clearly debating whether or not to speak the truth.

    "Michael!  What is the matter?"

    "It's Kraven," he said firmly, "He's returned."

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	2. Confrontation

   The room was freezing cold and horribly dim.  The sharp clicking of Kraven's shoes echoed as he approached Markus's throne, taking care not to walk directly over the ornate coffins holding what remained of the Coven leaders.  Countless intravenous needles fed blood into key places on Markus's back; the IV bags hanging limply on a metal rack behind him.  He wore only a pair of loose, baggy pants of a black material.  Despite Markus's weakened state, Kraven could still see the elegance and sophistication in the man's face.  He ducked his head and knelt in a type of bow, diverting his eyes from the furious leader.

    "Get up, Kraven," said Markus coldly.  "Perhaps you can find legitimate reason for me not to kill you.  _Why_ have you returned?"  

     "I…I did not want to see the Coven in disarray, my lord," he said, after rising quickly to his feet.  Despite his stammering, he kept his face stony and expressionless.  Markus's eyes flashed.

      "When, pray tell, did the Coven become your responsibility?"  

Kraven glanced downward.  "I was left in..."

     "No!" Markus said sharply, cutting him off, "You were never in control of the Coven.  It was always Viktor, Amelia, or myself, always watching, always keeping you in check."

   Markus rose slowly, his movements poised despite the IV's in his back.  There was no sound but each of their heavy breathing as Kraven was slowly approached.  A long, pregnant pause filled the slow air before Markus spoke again.  "Your incompetence has been most taxing.  It is beyond me why you would return after what you have done."

    For the first time since all of this began, Kraven was frightened.  He had managed to maintain his war-hero façade for centuries, only to have it destroyed in one night of flame and retribution.  The Lycan leader was dead, and by his own hands, but he had been unable to destroy the descendant of Corvinus.  Things were torn:  he couldn't stay at the Coven, and his peace treaty with the Lycan Clan had been destroyed.

   Markus once again broke the silence with a harsh and angry shout.  "You were in league with Lucian!  This is treason, Kraven, and the punishment will be severe."  He paused, regarding Kraven with cold, ice blue eyes.  When he spoke again, his voice was void of emotion and tone.  "The council will convene and decide your fate."

   "But my lord, I only wanted what was best for the Coven.  I wanted to put an end to the war."  Kraven stammered slightly, his voice having softened in a combination of fear and respect for the Elder.  To his surprise, Markus smiled, but it was not a friendly expression.  It was the casual smirk of a man in charge, dripping with malice and satisfaction.

    "No, Kraven," he said calmly, "You wanted an end to_ your_ war.  This can not be ended with a peace treaty.  I trust you realize this now."  There was a cold finality in his voice that could not be argued with.  "Drake!  Fell!" he said to no one in particular.  Moments later, the large doors slide open and two stony-faced men in leather dusters appeared.  Markus smiled again.  "Do escort Kraven to his cell, would you?"  The men nodded and stepped quickly forward, taking each of his arms in an iron-clad grip. 

    "Do not get me wrong, Kraven," said Markus with a hint of amusement, "Cross me, or the Coven again, and your fate will not be as lenient."

   Drake and fell dragged Kraven from the room, leaving Markus in silent and furious contemplation.  As they left, Kraven lifted his head.  Staring into the glass windows of the security room, he saw Selene, wrapped in Michael's now-human arms, staring back at him with an indescribable hatred. 

_But despite this,_ he thought,_ she's still so beautiful._


	3. Deliberation

            "This is a serious problem!"  Shale's voice boomed harshly in the dark confines of the underground laboratory.  The Coven was not the only thing that had been left in disarray.  The leader of the Lycan Clan had been slaughtered.  Aside from Raze, Lucian had placed his trust in three other Lycans:  Shale, Taylor, and Josiah.  The three had wasted no time in stepping up to organize and calm the frenzied clan to the best of their abilities.  "We can not deny the fact that we need Kraven," Shale continued, looking to the other two for reassurance.

            "After murdering Lucian, I'd no sooner place my trust in Kraven than I would have Viktor," stated Taylor gruffly.

            "Trust or not, he was our only ally."  Josiah nodded in agreement, but kept silent.  "He knows the Coven inside and out.  If we want to get the Hybrid back, we need him."

            Taylor snarled, "We don't need the help of any fuckin' Blood, we can infiltrate the Coven on our own!"  At this statement, Shale growled angrily, defiantly.  This was not how things were supposed to play out.  He glared at Taylor and roared again, this time, in challenge.  The cool-tempered Josiah chuckled as the other two began to change; their human forms melting away to give room for a thick and hairy hide, while their facial structures elongated to form gnashing snouts. 

Taylor and Shale circled each other awkwardly in the small room, their bodies far too big to do any sort of real fighting.  But it was Shale who struck first, regardless of their location.  A large, clawed paw swiped out, striking Taylor across the chest.  Taylor yelped in momentary pain at the deep gash before pouncing on Shale, sending several tables flying over, spilling the contents to the ground.  It didn't take more than a few minutes for Josiah to intervene, pulling them apart both verbally and physically.  Each was covered in blood and sweat, even after the short fight.  During a normal battle, the smaller Josiah would not have been able to pull the two Lycans apart.  But Shale and Taylor were merely quarreling, and allowed themselves to be separated.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said Josiah, a calm smile on his refined features, "Let's try and be a bit more mature, shall we?"  Shale and Taylor swiftly changed back, their heaving bodies shrinking back into their sweating human forms.  "Taylor," Josiah continued placidly, "be reasonable.  We want this to be successful, and without the inside knowledge of the Coven, this recapturing of the Hybrid will become a suicide mission."

"You seem to have overlooked the fact that Kraven is being detained by Marcus," said Taylor with a smug grin.  Shale arched a brow angrily, his lips curling into another snarl.

"Lies!!"

"No, I swear it!" Taylor protested, his hands raised in defense.  "One of the watchmen reported his return to the Mansion some time ago."  Shale glared angrily at the fellow Lycan, seeming unwilling to accept the claims.  If what Taylor said was true, then what was supposed to be a standard locate – and – detain mission would now become a rescue as well.  Though Shale had often wondered why Kraven had decided to side with the Lycans, he knew better than to act against the peculiar, yet helpful alliance.  Kraven was their ticket to the Coven.

Shale growled again, masking resignation beneath his usual "warrior's" face.  "Fine.  But it's up to you to assemble a team."  He jabbed a finger into Taylor's bleeding and sweaty chest with the final statement before leaving the room, most likely to find another Lycan willing to partake in an innocent scrap.

            Josiah smiled, watching the Lycan retreat.  The expression, however, was strained.  This entire situation was testing his patience.

            "Honestly," he muttered, "You two could not be more immature sometimes."  Taylor said nothing, just snorted his disagreement.

            "Now, please…get yourself cleaned up.  I expect the team to be ready for departure by Saturday."  That would leave Taylor merely one day to assemble and arm the team.  With a smirk, Josiah slipped past Taylor, leaving him alone to clean his wounds.

The Coven wouldn't know what hit it.


	4. Admittance

Selene never thought she could feel a stronger hatred than that which fueled her own private battle against the Lycans. The sight of the traitor Kraven in the presence of a respected Elder made her undead blood run cold. This was not a game in which Kraven could just scatter the pieces according to his own desires. This was a war, and at the moment, the coven was very vulnerable.

It had taken much of her willpower, combined with Michael's strong arms, to keep her from shooting him dead on the spot. Nothing justified behavior like this. The fact that Lucian had been alive and well, not to mention in league with Kraven, still caused a bubble of acidic fear the rise in her throat, gnawing painfully like bile threatening to spill. No one knew of this fear, not even Michael. Selene couldn't risk appearing weak at a time like this.

It was Michael who had restored peace in her; he escorted her up the winding staircase to their private quarters, away from prying eyes and unwanted intrusions. With the events of the past two days weighing on her mind, Selene was more than willing to put everything aside and spend the daylight hours in the arms of her lover.

Selene was dominant in every aspect of her immortal life, so it was only logical that she'd be dominant in sex. It had been Selene that brought Michael to his knees, moaning and writing beneath her with every penetration. Her hands guided his hips as her fangs broke his skin, spilling both of the man's precious liquids. He filled her like a searing rive, but in the end, it was Michael, not Selene, who was begging for more. They made love until every muscle in their body burned and their legs lay weak and useless against the sheets.

Michael lay with Selene, his heart still racing and his cheeks flushed with the Hybrid blood that had created such an abomination. He had become something that both Vampyres and Lycans feared and desired. Now that Viktor was dead, Michael's future didn't seem so bleak. While Marcus was driven in the constant war, he did not hold the personal hatred for the creatures as Viktor had. Though Michael was indeed Lycan at heart, his commitment was to the Vampyres. He and Marcus were scheduled to meet and discuss the terms of living, and the detaining process on the nights of full moon. For the time being, however, he had complete control over his body, and lay in his content human form alongside the cold, dark beauty that was Selene

He could feel his lover's heartbeat pounding heavily; her undead blood surging to the surface to give her cold, alabaster skin a hint of warmth and color. Michael's only reason for being alive at all was Selene, and his love for her was evident in his tight embrace. They lay side-by-side, their bodies pressed seamlessly together. Her head rested on his muscular arm, her hair splayed over skin and sheet. His other arm was wrapped around her side, their entwined fingers pressed up beneath the warmth of her breast.

Though Selene's eyes were closed, she was very much awake. No sleep could fall upon her worried mind. No sweet amount of sex could wipe these images from her thoughts. Everything she had placed her trust in…everything she believed in…it had all been a lie. What more treachery would be revealed to her in the weeks to come? All these years, she'd been killing creatures who had done nothing to deserve such a demise.

A flash of images swam before her eyes, and for a moment, she was lost to the memories.

_ The young girl was accustomed to sleeping through thunder, as storms were frequent. It was the abnormality of the shrill shrieks against the thunderous background that woke her. For a moment, she was disoriented, but then another cry of terror sent all forms of sleep from her eyes and her body trembling with fear._

_ Meanwhile, the family's horses screamed in the stales as though in heat while each was bitten sharply by a pair of ivory fangs. The Death Dealers accompanied Viktor everywhere, even on these treasonous binges. The Dark Lord himself was standing outside, his body occasionally illuminated by a flash of lightening, waiting for the humans to walk into his trap._

_ Though Selene's father was a large, strong man, he stood no chance against the immortal Elder. He fired his shotgun once blindly before Viktor snapped his neck with an effortless flick of the wrist. He didn't leave the body to rest in the soaking earth until every drop of blood has been purged from his flesh._

_ With horrified eyes, Selene stood frozen in the doorway, witnessing the horrible slaughter. Her mother screamed at her to get back inside through grief stricken sobs. She knew she should get to her niece's room, but her feet and legs seemed disconnected from her mind. By the time she tore her eyes away from her mother's death, she feared it would be too late to save the twins._

_ When she reached her niece's room, the Vampyre was already there, standing over the bodies of the young twins. At the sight of their broken necks and mangled throats, Selene nearly fainted. The terror grew as Viktor approached her, his regal and bloody face revealing nothing of the thoughts running through his head. Thoughts of Sonja. As he towered over her, she felt fear take complete control and consciousness fell away from her._

With a soft gasp, her eyes flew open, and her heart seemed to leap from her throat while a tear spilled slowly from her eye.

"Selene?" Michael's voice came as a steady beacon breaking through the torrent of memories and bringing her back to the surface. He could feel her tears sting like ice against the bare skin of his arm. "What's the matter, baby?" He'd never seen a show of emotion like this, and to be honest? It scared him.

Selene rolled over slowly, reaching out to wrap thin white arms around Michael's more tanned shoulders. She buried her face in his chest, trying to stop such a painful show of emotion. Several minutes passed before she had regained enough composure to speak.

"I…I love you…." She admitted softly, her lips brushing against the bulging muscle of his chest. After all of the lies and all the deceit, Selene found solid ground to stand upon in Michael. She meant that statement with every fiber of her undead heart.

There was silence for a moment before she felt Michael's grip tighten around her. With his eyes shut sadly, his lips found her ears and whispered huskily into them an admittance of his own emotions.

'I will _never_ let you go."


End file.
